"Sic Transit Gloria" Means Get Gloria Home Before She Throws Up In Your Car

I always seize the opportunity to use something my grandmother says as a blog title. By always, I of course mean just the one time. But I'm one for one you see, so always is an apt term.

Anyway, my intent is really not to write about the random stuff my grandma (who will soon be an octogenarian, and party's at our house, by the way) says, though I suppose that could be a supplemental blog. Then, I don't even update this one...



What my house will look like the weekend after next.



My intents are as follows:

1. Update you on Three Dimensional Rhombus.

2. Ramble on about totally rational fears.

3. Stop writing at some point.

Ok, let's tackle these one at a time.


3DR: The project initially conceived as a space opera about my cat's love of salmon-flavored glop has (d)evolved into a series of rambling, thematically incoherent sound pieces. This is probably what my brother and I are actually capable of producing.

Here is the best(!) of our glorified auditory chicken scratch, "Cackle of the Disenfranchised Donkey":




Not really sure what we were going for there, but we do play all the instruments.

Credits:

Kevin: bongos, transcendent call of the weasel, production

Jimmy: synth, perpetual wailing of the mist, eternal screeching of the bountiful eggplant, production


So there's that.


Fear:

Ever since I signed on for this law school thing, something has been gnawing on my brain, like some sort of teething child of the damned.

As much as I believe I will excel in law school, given the various skill sets I possess, I also believe that the experience, the demands and the curricula will sap me of any sort of creative or playful desires. I'm not kidding myself: it's going to be a hellish three-year sprint. But I constantly wonder whether or not it will come at the cost of what I perhaps value most about myself: my individuality, my sarcasm, my (benign) cynicism and sarcasm even. The law is, for the most part, rigid, though interpretation does lead to some interesting debates. I am, for the most part, Gumby. A match made in heaven, or in Cleveland?

It's a long shot, but law school very well might transform me into some sort of android...thingie.

Anyway, I'll try to update more often. Here's a monkey to be sorry for me.